


Domus Plena

by thecityofthefireflies



Series: Inquisitor Maera and AUs [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Additional Character Tags to be Added, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-Parenting, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, M/M, Mabari, Minor Josephine Montilyet/Cassandra Pentaghast, college employee au, its my fanfic I get to include the OC with a complicated backstory, krem is bull's son, more references to taxes than any fanfic should have, take your child to work day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecityofthefireflies/pseuds/thecityofthefireflies
Summary: "full house"I got tired of everything for this bull/dorian/cullen being predominately about sex, they deserve a wholesome romance.GOING TO BE REWRITTEN THIS SUMMER (some of the aspects of the AU that aren’t as plot relevant are bothering me so I’m going to rewrite it)Cullen and The Iron Bull are friends and co-workers at Skyhold College’s Campus Safety department.  They are also both single fathers of adopted children who coordinate schedules to co-parent their kids.  Both also have sworn off romance to prioritize their child.  It takes running into Professor Dorian on Take Your Child To Work Day to realize how absurd they’re both being and to bring them all together.Aka Dorian tries to get Cullen and Bull together, Bull thinks Cullen and Dorian should date, and Cullen thinks Bull and Dorian would be good for each other.  They’re all idiots.*sonic meme voice* It’s my fic so I get to put my oc child inquisitor with a complex backstory in as a main character and plot catalyst.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull/Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Inquisitor Maera and AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595755
Comments: 20
Kudos: 64





	1. Take Your Child to Work Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ot3 ships are usually just like pwp and im tired of that so welcome to romcom city 
> 
> I pulled so much of this out of my ass I bullshit everything about legal stuff, adoption, cars, employment, parenting 
> 
> I based the like college stuff off of my school but i don't work for campus safety so i guessed about everything
> 
> This started as a fun day dream au while i was working on my other fic with these characters and i really really liked it and i've been cranking it out.

Cullen tried not to think about how much his life had changed over the past few years. The changes were good, and he would do them again in a heartbeat, but Cullen the Templar of four years ago would not have been able to imagine that he would, in only a few years, have a dog and a house and be in the process of adopting a half-qunari elementary schooler. 

April four years ago he had been finishing his taxes and working as a Templar in Kirkwall. The order had taken their names from the ancient knights of the past, but functioned more like a combination fire department and police force for magical incidents. The ability to detect and suppress magic meant they could stop magic using criminals better than a regular police force, and they could stop fledgling mages from destroying their own homes accidentally. In his youth, he had thought it a noble calling. 

April three years ago he had almost forgotten taxes. He had been in the midst of helping Hawke expose his own boss, Meredith Stannard, for corruption and abuse of power and discrimination. It had been stressful and frightening, there were many who agreed with Stannard, but she had ended up behind bars and Cullen and Hawke both received accolades. The glory of routing Meredith’s influence faded fast, and she had not been alone in her biases. It became quite clear to Cullen that his actions were an invisible mark on his record and other department heads would ensure that he would be kept from earning any promotions. Kirkwall went from the city of his triumph to the place where he realized he had stopped the wave but could not turn the tide. 

Two Aprils ago, he was living in Skyhold. This was after spending nearly three months retching in the dark in Josephine and Cassandra’s guest bedroom coming down from years of taking lyrium. Modern lyrium supplements were chemically non-addictive compared to the ancient order’s potions, and there were medicines to take the edge off, but his body had apparently forgotten how to function without it. Even without chemical ties, the euphoric high of smiting was enough to keep most templars hooked to the order. 

So he spent three months with skull-splitting migraines and a uncooperative digestive system while Josie and Cass plied him with soup, electrolytes and pep-talks. By April he decided Skyhold was as good a city as any to make his fresh start in, and staying near Cassandra and her wife was justification enough. He got a large apartment and a half grown mabari puppy. His new job as a Campus Safety officer at Skyhold College was a lot more of the protect and help side of things that had originally appealed to him as a Templar. 

Cassandra and her wife Josephine were wonderful friends, and after a few of Josephine’s pointed speeches about her career as a social worker, Cullen, like most of the couple’s friends, registered to be a foster parent. Apparently the whole lyrium withdrawal - which was almost entirely gone - didn’t count against him any more than smoking cigarettes because it was part of the Templar Order. He was still unlikely to get a placement. Mage parents were what was in demand, as mage children were the most likely to be given up or abandoned, but he reasoned that he could do his best if a kid needed him for a few months. He figured training the mabari, Cavall, would be practice for the demands of attention and patience a kid might need.

Last April had been tumultuous. In March he had received a rather desperate call from Josephine that he was their only available home with no mages, and this child needed an environment without magic, and while she could place her with a family that already had a few kids, the girl would thrive best with individual attention. Cullen could hardly refuse that, and agreed to be a temporary home. Cadash, always an infinitely nicer boss than Meredith had ever been, granted him the full eight weeks of paid Family Leave. It was only after meeting the miserable looking qunari girl and having Cassandra hand him a folder of classified Seeker documents that Cullen realized what exactly he had signed up for. 

Maera, a far more agreeable truncation of the “Chimaera” written on the forms, had been one of a few people rescued from an illegal subdivision of the science and magic laboratory of a Tevinter Genetic Research company. The company was being charged in international court after a Seeker investigation into the trafficking of sentient peoples, sentient experimentation, and, apparently, child neglect and abuse. Maera was half-elf, half-qunari, with the phenotype artificially influenced towards the qunari side. DNA testing had been done by a more trustworthy Ferelden lab to try to find the families of the victims. The extended families of the other children and people -mostly elves -rescued were in Tevinter itself, but Maera’s late mother had been Ferelden, thus her presence in the country. It also made it easier for her to testify at the ongoing trial being held in Skyhold. The Dalish clan of her mother had been unwilling to take her, and thus she was in state custody. 

By the end of the eight weeks of paid leave, Josephine and Cassandra had realized they couldn’t adopt Maera like they had originally hoped. The scale of the international court trial Maera was entrenched in was great enough that as one of the Seekers pressing the investigation, Cassandra could not so transparently influence the chief victim and witness without the Tevinter legal team using it against them. Regardless, after the weeks Cullen was completely attached, and Cassandra and Josephine instead became doting aunts and frequent babysitters.

Taking in Maera was a slightly intimidating assignment. But the “geneticists” had been blood mages, and Templars amounted to something near superheroes in her mind. Despite explaining that he was a former Templar, her trust in him to protect her was almost unnervingly genuine. The facility she had grown up in had been predominantly sterile and institutional to her - bland meals, a lonely cell for a room, clinically administered contact to ensure she did not die from touch starvation, heavily monitored online “home”schooling - but she had been exposed to media portraying families and was desperate for that. She and his mabari, Cavall, became inseparable the moment they laid eyes on each other, and it took less time than Cullen expected for her to thrive with some patience and attention. 

This year found Cullen spending early April finishing his taxes and contemplating Take Your Child To Work Day. It was something Cullen had been deliberating about for the entire week, since Varric had off-hand asked him if he should expect Maera stopping by his office hours or not. The day itself was not for two weeks, but it was something to consider. Maera knew nearly all of his work friends and was getting a lot better at public settings. Plus the campus was dog friendly so Cavall could come too. His only hesitation was that it would still involve a lot of introductions and people looking at her. Maera was not a fan of strangers watching her, which was utterly understandable, and out of any demographic, college students were the most likely to be up to date on the ongoing trial and lab crackdown. 

He was leaning more towards it, Maera would probably appreciate the sort of “official” nature of being claimed as his “child” as the adoption process was frustratingly stagnating until after the Big Trial. Also Krem would be there. 

That was one of the more pleasant turns of fate of Cullen’s recent life. After his eight weeks of gently breaking Maera out of the institution mindset and into domestic life and introducing enough of his friends that she would be comfortable with trusted babysitters, he had returned to work. And then only a week later, when Josephine had informed him that while there was not a specific support group for single fathers of interspecies adopted children from Tevinter, she was strongly suggesting he let her host him and another man in a very similar position for coffee. 

Cullen wasn’t sure who was more surprised, himself, The Iron Bull, or Josephine. Cullen did not socialize as much as he could with the other Campus Safety employees, having already known a few Professors such as Varric and sticking to those bonds when he had down time at work. So he was unprepared for one of his immediate coworkers to be at the table. 

That had been a whirlwind friendship. It had started with some griping about legal issues and criticisms of Tevinter but they quickly started turning to each other for advice. Maera was genetically only half qunari, but had the horns and thick fingernails and height and while those differences seemed superficial, when the eight-year-old wanted to know why her horns were itchy, Bull had been invaluable. He had invited Cullen and Maera over to his house to explain products like hornbalm and also introduced her to his own adopted son.

Maera and Krem had also instantly hit off. Krem was almost a year older, and had lived in Ferelden with Bull for four years at that point, and with the pleased confidence of an elementary schooler getting to be the expert in anything, had taken Maera under his wing. Krem was an ideal friend, he knew all the elementary school bullies to avoid, came ready loaded with a group of friends, and patiently drew Maera into the sort of rambunctious youthful shenanigans she would never have thought of on her own. Krem’s influence was enough that Maera enrolled in school with him for third grade after online “home”schooling her entire life. 

The Iron Bull’s influence was that when Cullen decided that the apartment, while technically spacious enough, wasn’t the right kind of place to put in the long term roots raising a child entailed, he rented a townhouse on the same street as Bull’s home. 

Now they had an arrangement that was closer to co-parenting than babysitting. As the two head officers of Skyhold college’s Campus Safety department, they couldn’t completely synchronize their schedules, so they alternated who took the day or night shift, had one dayshift together where one of their many friends watched the kids for the afternoon, and alternated who took which of the dreaded friday and saturday evening shift and both had sunday and monday off. It was complicated and flexible arrangement, but both of them had the kind of strategic minds that delighted in working that kind of schedule out. It meant that Krem and Maera were joined at the hip and always watched by someone responsible. 

Cullen, sitting at the kitchen table and sorting through photocopies of finished tax records while he waited for the kids to arrive, started when Cavall bolted from wherever she had been napping, nails skittering on the tile, and jumped around in front of the living room window, barking. Cullen started packing away his paperwork, that was the ever-reliable alarm that the school bus was driving by and the kids were rounding the corner from the drop-off. 

The front door opened and shut, there was the thuds of shoes being kicked off and left haphazardly outside of the low shelves in the closet, and the exuberant greetings to the dog. Cullen stayed seated in the kitchen, sticking to the routine. Krem appeared first in the doorway and was joined by Maera. The fact that both were lingering instead of sitting at the table or heading for the fridge made Cullen frown inwardly. 

“Hi Cullen.” 

“Hi Krem.”

Cullen tried not to stare at Maera too expectantly, but she was knitting her fingers together in a nervous habit that hadn’t been directed at him in a while. Krem also looked up at her, a whole head shorter, and nudged her. 

“Cullen.” She started, and Cullen felt concern grow, she only went back to impersonal names when she was anxious about his reaction. Neither she nor Krem had any more bandaids or bruises than he had sent them off with this morning, and the school hadn’t called. Maybe she broke something. He tried to look placid, at least she hadn’t reverted an entire year back to the formal Mr. Rutherford. “Cullen, can I- well, on the 23rd, there’s a, like, holiday, can I go to work with you on the 23rd?” 

“Yes. Of course.” He huffed a laugh of relief and irony. “I was about to ask you about that.” 

“Yay! Yes! We get to both go!” Krem jumped twice in excitement and high-fived Maera. Her smile was smaller but no less genuine. 

“I’ll make sure Bull and I both get the day shift and we can eat lunch at the dining commons and you can get a tour of the whole school and -” He trailed off when Cavall started barking at Krem’s excitement and Maera ran over and flung her arms around him. 

“Thanks Dad.” He kissed her temple and squeezed back before she pulled away and grabbed Krem’s hand to jump in circles around Cavall. 

“Can we go to the park? I think Cavall wants a W-A-L-K” Krem asked, projecting on the dog. 

“That depends. How much homework do you have?” Homework was done as a prelude to dinner after some playing, as both kids always wanted a mental break right after school and to take advantage of prime daylight hours. 

“Ugh, it’s awful. We have to practice timed multiplication charts  _ and _ we have to alphabetize our spelling list! And we have to write in cursive!” Krem and Maera both notoriously hated alphabetizing. The Tevene alphabet was almost the same as the Ferelden one, but had five less letters, which Krem said he always tacked on at the end and forgot where they mixed in. 

“That sounds challenging, we can split it up, do the alphabetizing before dinner, and after you have some brain fuel, do the math. Now if you need a snack or the bathroom do that, and then get your shoes back on.” 

“Yes! I wanna see if the snails by the drain pipe are still there!” 

“Yeah! Dad you have to help us look the snails up because Stitches says that he saw a show that said some snails are poisonous and he said the poisonous ones have cones and stripes and I don’t know what a snail cone looks like.” 

“Sure.” Cullen made a mental note to keep an eye on what Cavall put in her mouth, and shoved a small bottle of hand sanitizer into his pocket. 

He took Cavall out in the tiny yard while the kids did their own business, the less anyone had to use the public restrooms the better, and the less Cavall had to stop on walks. While Cavall sniffed and circled he took the time to update Bull on their plans. 

CR: Taking kids to park to look at snails? expect grime later

TIB: Ruins my plans to introduce escargot tomorrow. 

Cullen snorted, told Bull he was funny and corralled the dog back inside to gather the rest of the party. He shoved his keys, dog bags, a tennis ball, and a ziploc of bandaids and first aid supplies in his pockets. Between the two of them, Bull and he had started stocking up on bandaids whenever they were on sale. There was the usual amount of tripping and skidding, but Krem approached everything like he had something to prove and Maera had the high pain tolerance of a qunari and a disregard for her own safety. They were both going to give him grey hair to make up for the fact Bull had none. So bandaids went everywhere with them. 

He had tried very, very briefly a number of months ago, to do a reward system with a prize for every week without any bandaid worthy scrapes, to see if something else could serve as motivation to avoid injury if pain wasn’t the deciding factor. That didn’t last, as on day five Maera had tried to hide that she lost a tooth and the fear Cullen had felt opening her dresser to put socks away and instead finding a wad of bloody tissues had brought both of them to tears when they worked out what happened. Bull had helped him through that “failure as a parent” moment. 

It took a few more minutes to get them out the door, as Maera forgot to sunscreen her face and Krem had to retie his shoelaces three times. 

Cullen googled the snail species found in their area while they walked. He didn’t think there was anything poisonous, but he was pretty sure that was the kind of thing responsible parents were supposed to research. The park was sprawling and contained everything from baseball diamonds to a copse of trees and a rocky winding artificial creek incorporated into the flood drainage system. The green space was one of the nicer aspects of the neighborhood, nearly making up for Mother Giselle’s frequent attempts to establish a homeowner’s association or Seggrit’s transparent racism in his attempts to start a neighborhood watch association to keep the elves and qunari out.

  
  


The days flowed by and finally it was April 23rd. Cavall was freshly bathed to reduce allergens, and Maera was smartly dressed in the outfit they had spent an hour deliberating over - a pink button up and her purple corduroy overall dress - which was offset by the holographic silver and pink bandaid on her cheek because Krem invented the very short-lived sport of Pinecone Baseball. Both his two- and four- legged girls were fed and eagerly waiting to ignore the school bus and instead drive with him to school. 

Krem and Maera greeted each other in the Campus Safety parking lot as if they hadn’t seen each other the night before and were introduced to all of the coworkers and Jim the work-study student. Rylen gave them spare Student Safety Patrol vests to wear when they accompanied Cullen or Bull on the rounds. 

Bull drove the first car patrol, with the kids plastered to either backseat window. Then Cullen let them press the buttons when people called for access to buildings they couldn’t swipe into. Then they “patrolled” the buildings, stopping by to see Blackwall and Sera in the sculpture lab, and climbing the stairs to Vivienne’s lofty office in the Magic building, and looked at the most recent addition to the murals Solas painted in the Philosophy lounge. 

Then Bull joined them for lunch, tying Cavall outside the dining commons to get scratches from passing students and trying to rein in the kids’ enthusiasm at a cafeteria that was so much more exciting than styrofoam trays. They ate and then Bull decided to take Krem and Cavall to burn off energy playing frisbee in the grassy quad. Maera readily agreed to go with Cullen to deliver books and a coffee to Varric during his office hours. 

Varric’s office was on the third floor of the Humanities building, which the dwarf only agreed to because it had an elevator. Maera had visited him before and knew where his office was, so she sprung up the stairs ahead of Cullen, burdened only with a single textbook. 

Nearing the top of the stairs Cullen heard Varric talking to someone with a dramatic, accented voice and felt a rush of concern. He had forgotten that one of the visiting professors this year was from Tevinter.

“Maera!” She had already reached the top of the stairs. She turned, dropped the book with a thud, and sprinted. There were voices speaking rapidly in Tevene. Only concern for the janitors over spilling an entire latte on the carpeted stairs kept him from flinging the contents of his hands aside. Cullen reached the hallway and froze. 

Maera had her arms around the visiting professor, and he had a hand on her shoulder and one cradling her head. The had pulled away enough to talk, and Maera was jabbering rapidly in happy Tevene, beaming. The professor looked a little bemused but mostly was matching her excitement. They clearly knew each other. 

Cullen felt a little blindsided, he wasn’t aware that Maera had left any adults in Tevinter that she would ever want to see again aside from behind bars. Moving to Fereleden was part of the whole fresh start after being an illegal interspecies genetics experiment. Cullen turned his glare to Varric and was met with an equally uncertain, but amused shrug. 

Finally, Maera stepped away and turned back towards him, now only tugging on the professor’s hand. He heard his name in the middle of a sentence of Tevene, probably an introduction. 

“Maera, honey, how do you know the professor?” He said with more calm than he felt. He had only heard glowing reviews and unfair rumors about the professor, but regarding Maera he would always favor caution. Regardless of how she knew this man, they were going to have a conversation later about running off to hug people she had not yet introduced to him, because his blood pressure was going to kill him if this became a regular occurrence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second chapter is technically finished so I'll post it in a few days 
> 
> HMU on [My Tumblr](https://tarantula-hawk-wasp.tumblr.com)


	2. Reunion and Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian has a charming reunion and then realizes just how out of his depth he is in many things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't use Latin for Tevene and that was as much a mercy to myself as it was to you.
> 
> Very excited about the reception for this fic! I haven't written romance in ages and I haven't written these characters before! 
> 
> I'd call this fic Medium Burn 
> 
> My update plan that i'm trying for this fic is not posting a chapter until I have a rough draft for the next chapter done. 
> 
> Again, I am bullshitting everything about laws, cars, and employment, etc.

For all the frigid winters and prevalence of dogs and flannel, Ferelden never ceased to surprise Dorian with aspects that bordered between whimsical and heartwarming. Today beheld a national custom of taking one’s progeny to work. If this was the Imperium, it would be a day of instilling ambition and pointing out potential rivals and networking connections as early as possible. Instead he had only seen elementary schoolers “helping” their parents with work, writing in blocky letters on “assignments” and overall being adorably excited about the idea of higher education. 

He hadn’t really interacted with any of them, as he wasn’t very close to any of his co-workers with children, and the ones that didn’t know him well still held biases about Tevinter. But it made today’s people-watching far more entertaining than usual. 

Dorian had eaten lunch with Varric in his office, as Cole, the dwarf’s almost-ward and work-study assistant, couldn’t tolerate the busier dining commons today. He and Varric were finishing their conversation in the hallway when a grey and purple blur charged at him. He was grateful he had all of his papers in a messenger bag, because he staggered as two arms wrapped around him. 

The cream colored hair and dark grey conic horns were unexpected but familiar.

“Dorian!” 

“Maera?” Dorian pushed her back enough to cradle her face with one hand, saw the brightness in her eyes and the toothy smile, and pulled her back into a tighter hug. “ _ What in the name of the Maker are you doing here? I know you left Tevinter but I thought you went to relatives?”  _

_ “They didn’t want me. I live here now! It’s great, I go to school and we have a dog! Her name’s Cavall and she sleeps in my bed! She’s playing outside with Krem. Krem’s my best friend, he lives on my street and his Tama works with mine and we get watched together.”  _

The last time Dorian had seen Maera she was packing everything up to move to Ferelden, where the dna tests and missing persons reports regarding her mother showed her maternal grandparents lived in a Dalish community near the Hinterlands. She had been crying, torn between everything she knew and a fresh start and unknown family. It was good to see her happy. Dorian had left the country only a few months later, his own affairs taking longer to settle. 

_ “That’s all wonderful, mellita. _ ” He said automatically. She pulled away and grabbed his hand. 

_ “You have to meet my dad!”  _

_ “Your dad?”  _ Dorian had been privy to the reports, and Maera’s father was a deceased Qunari prisoner of war. 

“ _ Well, not technically yet, because the court hasn’t finished the adoption, but he’s as good as. That’s him. He’s Mr. Rutherford and he works for Campus Safety.”  _

This Mister Rutherford was the classically Ferelden man at the top of the stairwell that Dorian had been pointedly ignoring. His features would be handsome were they not presently marred with an intense glare. Dorian had assumed it was a rude judgement on the Tevinter Magic Professor corrupting an innocent youth, but he quickly reconsidered that. If he had a daughter and saw her hugging a strange foreign man, he would have done far worse than glare. 

“Maera, honey, how do you know the professor?” The aforementioned Mr. Rutherford said with forced calm. Dorian turned his smile at Maera from unguarded to something more deliberately charming for the man. 

Varric quietly approached, likely to monitor this introduction, but also to take the coffee and books from Rutherford’s distracted hands. Once unencumbered, the man grabbed Maera’s free hand. She was linked between them, unwilling to let go of either and unaware, it seemed, of the tension. 

“This is Dorian, Dad, he’s one of the ones who told the Seekers about the lab. He changed my name to Maera. He was there when they took me out and he visited me a few times when they were figuring out where to send me. He’s  _ very _ nice.” 

It was honestly one of the most genuine and flattering introductions Dorian had ever received. Out of the mouths of babes and all. It did, however, leave out a number of customary details. He transferred which hand Maera was holding and reached out to receive a firm handshake from the other man. 

“Dorian Pavus, visiting Professor of Magic Theory and Tevinter History. I was indeed one of the whistleblowers regarding the Typhon Lab.” 

“Cullen Rutherford, Campus Safety.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I suppose I should thank you for saving Maera, but that seems an insufficient expression.”

“And I suppose I should express my gratitude to you, Maera seems to be thriving. I was a bit concerned about sending her to Ferelden of all places.” Dorian tried to steer the conversation away from inexpressible emotions. 

“I like Ferelden! They let you take dogs everywhere!” Maera exclaimed. Dorian issued an exaggerated sigh. 

“Of course you would, I see he’s raising you in proud dog loving tradition. Next you’ll be wearing flannel and waxing poetic about stew.” That earned a giggle from Maera and a snort from her father. “I completely understand the secrecy, but if I had known you were in the same city I would have visited you much sooner - or at least contacted your father about visiting.” 

“And if I had known who you were, I would have spoken to you far earlier.” Cullen seemed equally apologetic. Dorian waved it off with a flippant gesture. 

“It was classified. Water under the bridge and all that.” 

“This is quite a touching reunion, really, but Sparkler has a class to teach and I’m sure its been a bit longer than delivering papers was supposed to take.” Varric interjected with a very pleased grin. 

“But I haven’t seen Dorian in over a year!” Maera protested, looking pleadingly at each of them in turn. Cullen squeezed her hand and let go, scrabbling in his pockets for a slip of paper and a pen, scrawling something. 

“How about you catch up for longer a different day?” Cullen primarily addressed Maera, but glanced at Dorian expectantly. Dorian nodded. “If you’re free Sunday you could come by for dinner?” 

“Oh please! I can show you Cavall! And our house! And what I’ve been doing in school! Did you know they have spelling bees here where they make you spell hard words? I thought that was just for TV!” 

And how could Dorian say no to that? He took the business card with Cullen’s cell phone number on the back, gave the man another handshake, was squeezed by Maera’s parting hug, and watched as they left back down the stairs. 

“Can’t say that’s how I expected that reunion to go.” Varric said rather smugly beside him. Dorian looked down at him in surprise, frowning. 

“ _ Kaffas _ , you knew? Did you arrange that timing?” The dwarf smirked. 

“Yes I knew about the Typhon thing, why do you think the school was convinced to hire a ‘vint? You’re a good guy, even if the public can’t know it yet.” 

Dorian felt an odd warmth blossom in his chest, spreading dangerously to his eyes. The feeling dissipated when he looked at his watch and realized that even if he ran he would be at least a minute late to a class that he taught. He swore again, rushing off down the stairs with Varric’s fading laughter behind him. 

It wasn’t until Friday, after teaching his last class of the day and settling into his office to cover rough drafts in feedback, that his mind caught up to the plans he had agreed to this week. He had texted Cullen’s number and then been asked about Sunday to work out a time and if he had any dietary preferences. That was settled and he had the man’s address - which he promptly searched on googlemaps and found to be a modestly sized townhouse. He was starting to realize that this was a bit out of his wheelhouse and feeling rather anxious about it. 

Part of being raised in a very well-off Tevinter family was learning the advanced social etiquette for many scenarios, but the downside of having so many specific instructions drilled into his head was that when confronted with something his childhood had not covered he felt overwhelmingly unprepared. When his family had been hosted at others’ houses in his youth, it was always exceptionally stilted with servants and heur d'oeuvres. He had eaten private dinners at the houses of attractive men before, but usually that was more of a means to an end in the guise of a formal meal.

Did one bring wine for the host when one was primarily there to talk to his nine-year-old? How formally should he dress for such a middle-class event? How late should he stay? Should he linger to talk after Maera likely had to go to bed? When were third graders expected to sleep? 

Any of his usual friendly pillars of support back in Tevinter were of equally high status and therefore equally useless. He texted Mae and Felix anyways, at least he could have sympathy in their uselessness and some shared amusement at his expense. And of his friends here, well, it was doubtful Sera knew anything useful and regardless, she might use this as an opportunity to prank him, he would hate to admit such a lapse to Vivienne, and he had no desire to give Varric any more cause to be smug this week. Wikihow held no answers for this specific situation. 

For clothing, he decided he could at least wear some Tevinter fashion article, finally dining with someone who might appreciate it. Maera understood Tevene fashion and her father was certainly worth dressing up for. Even if his dating life, if he could call it that, was severely limited between local gay clubs being filled with his students who were far too young and dating apps reminding him of the worst parts of his secret encounters in Tevinter. That was when profiles didn’t just outright say “no horns, no stones, no knives, no vints” and remind him that being gay did not preclude other forms of bigotry. Even if this was far from a date, it was nice to have an excuse to dust off some of his wardrobe. 

He still had no idea what to do for a host gift. What would be acceptable and please both a nine-year-old and her father? 

His mind kept drifting back to those questions, diverting his focus from work. It was later than he wanted when he let himself switch to his own research. He had a few new books that the Ostwick university library had finally sent over. It was too late to bother trying the dining commons for food and he didn’t have an UberEats budget these days so he settled for his electric kettle and cup ramen. 

By the time he pulled away from what ended up being three hundred pages of a fascinating trainwreck of misconceptions piled on top of each other, it was well into the witching hours. He had done his time at university and was a few years past pulling all-nighter on campus. 

He gathered his things and wrapped his cardigan tighter against the night air and walked the few blocks to the overflow lot and his rather pathetic used car. Felix had offered to sell him his used luxury car for a mere pittance but Dorian could not bear that kind of charity. There were times he regretted that. 

He got in, set his bag on the passenger seat, put the key in and turned. Nothing. He sighed, cursed, and turned the ignition again. Nothing. He tried a few more times. Swearing more creatively he got out, kicked his car, swore at his foot, and tried again. 

This time when it didn’t work he popped the hood and looked inside. Nothing looked out of place, although he barely understood how a car engine worked. It was probably the battery. Which would mean someone would have to jump it. 

If he was more daring and had any ability to get another used car he would have tried a little lightning magic to give it juice, but mechanics were a risk he was unwilling to take. If only his TA Dagna were here, she would understand exactly how magic and mechanism would interact. Or she would make it explode worse than his attempts. 

The problem with needing to jump his car was that he didn’t have anyone he could reliably call at 3 a.m. to drive out and help. Sera was certainly up, but she didn’t have a car and was likely out with Dagna at one of the clubs she always tried to drag him to. Varric was either deep in his cups writing or asleep. Vivienne was the early to bed early to rise type, and he did not want to owe her this. Anyone else from work wasn’t close enough to bother with this. And as soon as he opened his mouth anyone passing by was likely to lock their doors and speed away. That also kept him from calling for an uber or taxi. 

He resigned himself to a few pathetic hours lying on the Magic Studies lounge couch. Maybe if he faced away from the door the janitorial staff would think he was a student who studied too late. Putting his keys back in his pocket and gathering his bag made him touch the business card that Cullen had given him. It had the Campus Safety number on it beneath the man’s work extension. 

They had a car for that job, and they worked nights. If it was Cullen working, well, the man was forced to be at least a little polite because of the upcoming dinner with his daughter, if it wasn’t Cullen on shift, and the person refused to do their job, then at least he tried. 

He rang the number and listened through the perfunctory greeting, mentally reciting what to say.

“Hi, terribly sorry if this isn’t an appropriate request, but I don’t know who else to call. I’m parked a few blocks from campus and my car won’t start. Could I jump it from the campus vehicle?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, the next chapter will be posted when I finish editing it and finish the draft of chapter 4 
> 
> I hope I managed to do an alright portrayal of Dorian's voice. 
> 
> hmu on [My Tumblr](https://tarantula-hawk-wasp.tumblr.com)


	3. Cars, Bull, and Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time 4 bull. 
> 
> welcome to the not quite yearning. Dorian meets Bull and then u get to see the "platonic" co-parenting lyfestyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u have wondered about my absense from posting wellllll first in january i was prepping for studying abroad in Rome, then I was abroad and super busy and having a blast. then like a week ago, Coronavirus got serious in Italy and i got sent home and i'm in voluntary quarantine which is extremely depressing but at least i have time 2 write.

As far as Friday night shifts went - although by now it was firmly into the wee hours of Saturday morning - late April was fairly calm. Students had exams approaching, but were not quite trying to frantically cram in one last hurrah before the semester ended. The night started with a few lock-out calls who needed to be let into their rooms, monitoring illegal parking areas, and reminding a few pedestrians to turn the corner because the campus was a “smoke-free zone”. A little later and there were a few requests for escort. It was a cold night, and the free ride from anywhere within two miles of the school in the campus safety car had its appeal. The Iron Bull always tried to be absolutely pleasant for that duty, he’d rather the kids pretend to be more sober than they were in the car rather than have anything happen stumbling around the downtown in the dark. Trust was important for his job to actually work in ensuring the students’ safety. 

Bull settled in to wait out the final hour and change of his shift. Krem was having his weekend sleepover at the Rutherfords’, hours ago Cullen sent him a text saying that no, the loose tooth Krem had been complaining about had not come out yet, and that both kids had tried mushrooms in their stir-fry at dinner. It was nice to have someone in his life who cared about sharing those kind of parenting minutiae and be invested enough in each other’s kid to pull the same kind of weight as him. They also got along swimmingly. Bull had brought two books with him on Cullen’s recommendation to amuse himself during the long periods of waiting for an alarm or phonecall. 

The book that he finished during the first half of his shift was the latest youth novel that Krem and Maera were obsessed with, part of an engaging series about woodland creatures in a medieval utopia society that had surprisingly accurate military tactics he could discuss with Cullen after both of them finished the book. Cullen had apparently read a few of the series when he was young, but hadn’t even thought about them until Maera brought a battered paperback home from the school library. It at least explained the kids’ renewed affinity for carrying sticks around and the homemade sling and stones that Bull had confiscated before a window could break. 

The other book was for a far older audience, and came from Cassandra’s recommendation via Cullen. Being friends with Cullen meant getting roped into that informal book club. It was predictably, a romance. This time a period piece - also pseudo-medieval but with thankfully no bushy tails or twitching ears. A queen and her bodyguard secretly pining for each other but doing nothing until a young jeweler comes to the palace and makes a move on her royal highness. The bodyguard is forced to watch the intimacy of her missed chance until she’s invited to join in what the other two women have. The book managed to balance genuine emotion and angst with occasional bodice-ripper smut. It wasn’t by a name that he recognized as a pseudonym of Tethras, but he’d have to ask the dwarf anyways just to see his reaction. 

He was just getting a part halfway through, where the bodyguard got hit on by the jeweler and accused her of cheating on the feelings of the Queen- when the work phone rang. Tabling his novel, Bull switched back to serious professionalism and answered the call with his rote work greeting. 

“Campus Safety, Officer Bull speaking.” 

“Hi, terribly sorry if this isn’t an appropriate request, but I don’t know who else to call. I’m parked a few blocks from campus and my car won’t start. Could I jump it from the campus vehicle?” The voice speaking was older than the usual nervous pitches of students calling, but there were always graduate students or nontraditional ones. 

“Yeah, of course. Tell me cross streets and I’ll be there in five.” Bull wrote down the address and gathered jumper cables and his keys and drove. 

On the block the caller had indicated there was a rather old and ill-used car with the hood up and a lean man pacing beside it. He waved at the campus car and Bull carefully parked so the vehicles faced each other. Bull got out with the cables and popped his hood, letting the man ramble a bit at him while he looked at the older car’s parts. Sometimes it was better to let people vocalize the anxiety spiral they had been on, rather than cutting them off. 

“Thank the maker- Sorry to call you so late, I just, I’m rather new in the area and, well, I haven’t got any friends with a car who are quite at the 3 a.m. phonecall point yet.” The man was pretty with a well shaped mustache despite the disheveled exhaustion about him. His hair had probably been artful up until his fingers attacked it in a fit of nerves. The Tevene accent suddenly registered. Bull was so used to hearing Krem and Maera and the hour was late enough that his ears slipped on registering that piece of information. The man did not need to mention that any cars going by at this hour would also notice that he was Tevinter and would likely lock their doors rather than pull over to help. Bull smiled reassuringly. Combining the accent with the man’s age, he had a guess at who this was. He remembered being told that a new hire was an immigrant from Tevinter, and that the man’s last name had stuck in his mind as both alliterative with his title and distinctly Tevene even if the first name currently escaped him. 

“S’fine. That’s what I’m here for, the late night stuff. You’re Professor Pavus, right? Let me just put these clamps on and then we’ll see.” He gestured with the jumper cables. Bull got everything hooked up and tried to start the car. Nothing happened. He directed the other man to rev his car. Again nothing. And again. The professor seemed increasingly tired and distraught. Bull sighed, unhooking the cables. 

“There might be something wrong besides the battery. Why don’t you come back to the Campus Safety office with me, sit down, and then we can figure out what to do. You’re parked in a legal spot, and they don’t charge parking over weekends so your car will be fine tomorrow.” 

The man dithered for a moment, then sighed, fetching an overstuffed leather messenger bag from his car and getting into the passenger seat with Bull.

They drove the few minutes back to campus and Bull flicked on the electric kettle and offered tea or coffee and his spare pastel pink mug, microwaving his own hot pink cup. He instructed the professor to sit at the chair beside his at the long desk. The man waited at the kettle to assemble a cup and then joined him. 

“So, in my eye, your options are call a taxi or rideshare and have them come to the school, or wait forty-five minutes for my shift to end and then I can give you a ride home.” With a car like that the man was unlikely to be eager to pay for both a late night ride and whatever auto repair he was looking at. The professor looked uncomfortable, sighed, opened his mouth and shut it again, and sighed again. 

“If it’s really no trouble, then I suppose I could entertain myself for a while.” Bull nodded, pleased. 

With that settled, the man opened his bulging bag, pulling out a hardcover brick and gesturing to it with in reply to Bull’s questioning look. 

“Magic Theory. Which is what I was up so late researching. Time flies when they give you the office without a real window.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Mm, well better stick around and get tenure, then you can pick whatever room you want.” The man snorted. 

“As if they’d keep me around for that long. I’m lucky I get two years. Few schools want to hire a professor associated with Tevinter Magics.” 

“I don’t know, you look alright to me.” Bull said with his mildest leer. It was a vague enough come-on that if the man was uninterested or uncomfortable it could be passed off as a slip of the tongue and forgotten. The other man’s cheeks pinked and his opened his book with a laugh. Bull checked that off as a success and picked up his novel again. They read in silence for a while before the professor did a double take at the novel Bull was carefully holding so that his fingers obscured most of the skin on the cover. 

“Is that really what you’re reading?” The man sounded highly amused. 

“Yes.” Bull said levelly, he did not want to stoop to throwing Cassandra and her informal book club under the bus, because there was nothing wrong with a man reading romance novels. The man paused, and then softened a little. 

“I only meant that I found that author’s other work more stimulating. The one with the escape of the captured warrior and the poet-thief and the healer.”

“That one was pretty good, but I felt like the whole first arc was just too dark, with the imprisonment and the evil queen, especially with the references to the loss of his first love.” 

“Ah but that’s what makes the happy ending so much sweeter! The contrast, the realization that he’s allowed happiness.” 

“That’s a reasonable assessment, I suppose. Still, I prefer things be a little lighter hearted.” 

“Fair. I however, was raised in the grand tradition of Ancient Tevene tragedies, you know - father must kill daughter, his wife kills him, their son kills her, all of them wretches - that kind of thing, so I find the darkest of Ferelden tales heartwarming in comparison.” 

“Well if you’ve got some other heartwarming Ferelden tales to recommend, I’ve got a lot of night shifts to fill.” 

“Mmm perhaps, I’ll have to give it some thought. Would you like the list by email, or…?” 

“Might as well just text it to me.” Bull said. The other man looked surprised but smiled. He fished an iphone out of his well-fitting skinny jeans and opened the contacts, passing it to Bull. 

“Add yourself.” Bull carefully entered in his number, large fingers typing as precisely as he could manage. He, himself, had the largest available smartphone model, the only android designed for Qunari hands, and the regular models of phones always felt dangerous delicate in his hands. He put the smiley face he thought himself clever for designing after his name }?-) and passed the phone back. The other man snorted. 

“How droll, I see the horns, but why the question mark?” 

“Eyepatch.” Bull said tersely. This earned another laugh. Bull was pleased, it was high time someone besides Cullen appreciated that emoji. 

There was another comfortable silence, both reading and sipping their drinks. Bull did his checks of the security cameras and Dorian, out of boredom, accompanied him on his final car patrol around campus. They had a pleasant conversation criticizing several recent movie adaptations of books. Then Bull parked back in the work lot and locked up before transferring his and Dorian’s things to his personal truck. It was in the cab, drumming his fingers on the window ledge and looking pensive that Dorian diverted the conversation from idle chitchat. 

“Bull, you’ve lived in Ferelden a bit longer than I have.” Bull grunted an affirmation. “I’m afraid I don’t quite know the etiquette for being a dinner guest to a family. Let’s say I’ve been invited to catch up with a former, uh, student, who is a child. If I bring their parent wine, as is more customary, it leaves them out.” 

“Can’t say I’ve been in that exact one, but my kid loves getting that sparkling juice for holidays. Could do that, it covers the fancy bottle bit without the alcohol.” Several pieces were clunking together in Bull’s mind: Maera’s chatter this week, Cullen’s weekend plans, the forgotten first name of the Professor from Tevinter. 

“That’s… an excellent idea. Thank you.” The man sounded so genuinely relieved, Bull felt almost bad that he was so worked up over a dinner with two of the most easily pleased people Bull knew. 

“Yeah. I think Maera likes the apple cider flavor more than the grape.” He said off-handedly. The man nodded and then froze, eyeing Bull suspiciously. “You are the Dorian she was talking my ear off about, right?” 

“You know Maera? I suppose you work with her father but…” 

“I had her on Friday. She’s very excited.” Bull decided to lay out at least most of the cards. Seeing Dorian had unstoppered a well of chatter from Maera. Most of it had been her bouncing ideas around about what to tell Dorian about and what to wear and what to cook. Bull did his best to field those thoughts, talking her down from ridiculous recipes and explaining what having someone over for dinner was usually like, he didn’t want Cullen to have to be the kill joy about why they couldn’t make eight different messy and complicated recipes just because they were at restaurants or on the cooking channel. Maera had also shared more about her time in Tevinter than she had in a while, moving from lab custody to government custody, and how the people visiting her - including this Dorian- made all the difference between those two institutions. 

“I didn’t realize you shared custody.” Dorian’s tone was bland but his face was balanced between wonder and incredulity. Bull shrugged. 

“That’s one way to put it.” Bull pulled into Dorian’s apartment parking lot. “But really, I know both Maera and Cullen, I’d say not to get too worked up about dinner but I know that’s not how things work. If you have other questions about customs or etiquette, I’ll at least give you an honest opinion.” 

Bull went back to his house, quiet and empty without Krem, and collapsed in bed as soon as he could. Six and a half hours later he walked across the intersection to Cullen’s townhouse for brunch. They shared a lot of meals -it was easier to alternate cooking for four than both cook for two - but the ones that were consistently scheduled was weekend brunches. Whoever had the kids hosted. 

Bull used the spare key on the door, roughhoused with Cavall in the way she liked, shucked off his shoes, and went to the kitchen. He barely made it into the doorway before there was a screech of chair legs and two impacts with his sides and cries of “Tama!” He let out a theatrical “oof” and staggered, clutching the two weights to him. Maera and Krem were both giggling and clinging like limpets. 

“Were you good for Cullen, Krem-puff?” His son rolled his eyes with great force. 

“How come you never ask Maera if she was good?” 

“That’s because I already know the answer to that.” Bull said, making sure it was clearly teasing. Krem was hardly a rule-breaker, just far more likely to come up ideas that greyed hair. 

“We watched Sleeping Beauty, and then we played fight-the-dragon with the glittery dragon you gave me!” Maera piped up. 

“Cullen said I’m not allowed to tell Madame Vivienne that she looks like Maleficent.” Bull could only imagine judgement that would be cast on his parenting via a singular glare he would receive if Madame Vivienne caught wind of that notion. Although there was equal chance she would taken them by surprise and actually find the comparison flattering. 

“Cullen is extremely right about that one. Good observation but you can’t tell other people.” 

Bull steered the children back to the table, which was already set and waiting for food. Bull got them seated with napkins and poured their juice and turned to see if Cullen needed help around the corner in the kitchen when the man in question emerged. Cullen’s hair was damp but drying into an unstyled mess of curls after a recent shower, and he was in faded jeans and a Storm Coast National Park t-shirt. Bull grinned, mostly at the platter of pancakes - plain and chocolate chip- he carried in one hand, and the bowl of fruit he had in the other. Both of them were decent homecooks, but there was something very right about Cullen and weekend brunch. It must be ancestral country boy sensibilities, with a long tradition of farm breakfasts. 

“Morning. Need a hand?” 

“Morning, Bull, you can get your coffee, I’ve got to grab the strawberry sauce.” 

Bull followed him back to the kitchen, getting one of the larger mugs that were more qunari appropriate out of the cabinet. They were probably bought with a post-growth-spurt Maera in mind, but Bull would certainly reap their benefits until then. He also spotted Cullen’s cold and nearly empty mug beside the stovetop. He filled both from the coffeemaker and fixed Cullen’s with his preferred sugar cube and long pour of milk. Cullen’s smile when he set the mug down was surprised and very grateful. 

Cullen asked about work and Bull said it was a rather slow night. He would mention Dorian’s car later, he didn’t want to worry Maera. He did mention that he finished reading the book the kids liked, and was bombarded with questions about his opinions of scenes and characters and how badass so-and-so was. Cullen contributed his own thoughts and brunch passed pleasantly. 

Bull didn’t have much planned for Saturday, as he had the next two days off to catch up on housework and the never ending laundry. So he offered his help in cleaning Cullen’s house into something presentable. The kids were avoiding being roped into too much helping by holing up in Maera’s room with a box of legos. Bull got an afternoon text. 

[unknown]: This is Dorian. Battery needed replacing. Car all good now thx. 

In between dusting shelves, vacuuming carpet, and washing and drying dishes, Cullen thought up nervous questions. It was kind of amusing to be working both sides of anxious people for the same event. Every half hour or so, Cullen would pause cleaning, hands clasping a throw pillow, or with a towel still inside a glass, or holding some other piece of household paraphernalia and look at him with an openly troubled expression. He would then say some statement that had obviously been mulling in his mind while cleaning and Bull would grunt acknowledgement. 

“I can’t make Tevene food because if it’s terrible that would be rude.” 

“He made a disparaging comment about stews.” 

“Burgers would probably be too” He made a vague gesture with the trashbag he was tying. “Blasé? Fereldan? Casual?” 

About halfway through cleaning, Bull received another text, accompanied with three photos of outfits in various combinations of grey, olive green, burgundy, and black. 

Dorian: I’m afraid I have no idea what constitutes casual dinner in ferelden fabrics. 

It was very amusing to be almost orchestrating this dinner. He directed Dorian towards the outfit that would make Cullen feel the least outclassed. Eventually he helped Cullen make a menu decision.

“Pasta, tomatoes, and cheese is probably a safe bet. Unless he’s lactose intolerant.” Bull said mildly. 

“No, I asked. That’s actually-.” Cullen looked at him with wild relief and a growing, fond, smile. “I can work with that. Stuffed shells is fancy-ish? Right?” 

They went to the grocery store, it was easier to coordinate the kids’ split between two houses diets if they shopped together. Plus it was more enjoyable as a social event. 

Cullen would cook the dinner tomorrow after he slept after his shift, but that afternoon he had the kids (and Bull) help make two apple pies. One for immediate consumption to satisfy the kids’ impatience, which Bull was issued the leftovers of to take home, the other for dinner with Dorian. 

Bull finally left with Maera’s overnight bag on one shoulder and Krem’s on the other. It was right on the cusp between late afternoon and early evening, but Cullen planned on sleeping a few hours before and after his night shift. Both kids hugged him goodnight with the fervor of departing for a month long trip, rather than a dozen or so hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also some of the time was bc I had so much writer's block about what to have the menu for the dinner party be. Like I was just as anxious as I'm writing Cullen over a fictional dinner. I'm a stressed person. 
> 
> If u wondered about the books referenced, 2/3 are allusions to Redwall books and 1 is just some OC stuff bc I needed something to be a vague parallel. 
> 
> Im most excited about the chapter after the next chapter. I'm trying to write fast before my classes start up again. 
> 
> hmu on tumblr [My Blog](%E2%80%9Dtarantula-hawk-wasp.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


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